Part 9

_Swet._ Continue so. And Gentlemen, to you now; To bid you fight is needless, ye are _Romans_, The name will fight it self; To tell ye who You go to fight against, his power, and nature, But loss of time: [ye] know it, know it poor, And oft have made it so. To tell ye farther, His Body shows more dreadful than it has done, To him that fears, less possible to deal with, Is but to stick more honor on your actions, Load ye with virtuous names, and to your memories Tye never dying time, and fortune constant. Go on in full assurance, draw your swords As daring and as confident as justice; The gods of _Rome_ fight for ye; loud Fame calls ye, Pitch'd on the topless Apenine, and blows To all the under world: all Nations, The seas, and unfrequented deserts, where the snow dwels, Wakens the ruin'd monuments, and there Where nothing but eternal death and sleep is, Informs again the dead bones. With your virtues, Go on, I say, valiant and wise, rule heaven, And all the great aspects attend 'em. Do but blow Upon this enemy, who, but that we want foes, Cannot deserve that name; and like a myst, A lazie fog, before your burning valors You'll find him fly to nothing, This is all, We have swords, and are the sons of antient _Romans_, Heirs to their endless valors, fight and conquer.

_De. Dem._ 'Tis done.

_Petill._ That man that loves not this day, And hugs not in his arms the noble danger, May he dye fameless and forgot.

_Swet._ Sufficient, Up to your Troops, and let your drums beat thunder, March close, and sudden like a tempest: all executions [_March._ Done without sparkling of the Body: keep your phalanx Sure lin'd, and piec'd together; your pikes forward, And so march like a moving Fort: ere this day run, We shall have ground to add to _Rome_, well won. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Caratach _and_ Nennius.

_Nen._ The _Roman_ is advanc'd from yound' hills brow, We may behold him, _Caratach_. [_A March._

[_Drums within at one place afar off._

_Car._ Let's thither, I see the dust flie. Now I see the body, Observe 'em, _Nennius_, by ---- a handsome Body, And of a few, strongly and wisely joynted: _Swetonius_ is a Souldier.

_Nen._ As I take it, That's he that gallops by the Regiments, Viewing their preparations.

_Car._ Very likely, He shews no less than General: see how bravely The Body moves, and in the head how proudly The Captains stick like plumes: he comes apace on; Good _Nennius_ go, and bid my stout Lieutenant Bring on the first square Body to oppose 'em, And as he charges, open to inclose 'em: The Queen move next with hers, and wheel about, To gain their backs, in which I'll lead the Vantguard. We shall have bloody crowns this day, I see by't; Hast thee good _Nennius_, I'll follow instantly. [_Exit Nennius._ How close they march, as if they grew together! [_March._ No place but lin'd alike: sure from oppression; They will not change this figure: we must charge 'em, And charge 'em home at both ends, Van and Rere,

[_Drums in another place afar off._

They never totter else. I hear our Musick, And must attend it: Hold good sword, but this day, And bite hard where I hound thee, and hereafter I'll make a relique of thee, for young Souldiers To come like Pilgrimes to, and kiss for Conquests. [_Exit._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Junius, Curius, _and_ Decius.

_Jun._ Now is the time, the fellow stays.

_Dec._ What think ye?

_Cur._ I think 'tis true.

_Jun._ Alas, if 'twere a question, If any doubt or hazzard fell into't, Do ye think mine own discretion so self-blind, My care of you so naked, to run headlong?

_Dec._ Let's take _Petillius_ with us.

_Jun._ By no means: He's never wise but to himself, nor courteous, But where the end'[s] his own: we are strong enough, If not to[o] many. Behind yonder hill The fellow tells me she attends, weak guarded, Her Mother and her Sister.

_Car._ I would venture.

_Jun._ We shall not strike five blows for't, weigh the good, The general good may come.

_Dec._ Away, I'll with ye, But with what doubt?

_Jun._ Fear not, my soul for all. [_Exeunt._

[_Alarms, Drums and Trumpets in several_ [_places afar off, as at a main Battell._

_Scæna Quinta._

_Enter_ Drusus _and_ Penyus _above_.

_Dru._ Here ye may see 'em all, Sir; from this hill The Country shews off levell.

_Pen._ Gods defend me, What multitudes they are, what infinites! The _Roman_ power shews like a little Star Hedg'd with a double hollo. Now the knell rings, [_Loud shouts._ Heark how they shout to th' battel; how the air Totters and reels, and rends apieces, _Drusus_, With the huge vollied clamours.

_Dru._ Now they charge. Oh gods, of all sides, fearfully.

_Pen._ Little _Rome_, Stand but this growing _Hydra_ one short hour, And thou hast out-done _Hercules_.

_Dru._ The dust hides 'em, We cannot see what follows.

_Pen._ They are gone, Gone, swallow'd, _Drusus_, this eternal Sun Shall never see 'em march more.

_Dru._ O turn this way, And see a modell of the field, some forty, Against four hundred.

_Pen._ Well fought, bravely follow'd; O nobly charg'd again, charg'd home too: _Drusus_, They seem to carry it: now they charge all, [_Loud._ Close, close, I say; they follow it: ye gods, Can there be more in men? more daring spirits? Still they make good their fortunes. Now they are gone too, For ever gone: see _Drusus_ at their backs A fearful Ambush rises. Farewell valours, Excellent valours: O _Rome_, where's thy wisdome?

_Dru._ They are gone indeed, Sir.

_Pen._ Look out toward the Army, I am heavy with these slaughters.

_Dru._ 'Tis the same still, Covered with dust and fury.

_Enter the two Daughters, with_ Junius, Curius, Decius, _and_ Souldiers.

_2 Daugh._ Bring 'em in, Tie 'em, and then unarm 'em.

_1 Daugh._ Valiant _Romans_, Ye are welcome to your Loves.

_2 Daugh._ Your death, fools.

_Dec._ We deserve 'em, And women do your worst.

_1 Daugh._ Ye need not beg it.

_2 Daugh._ Which is kind _Junius_?

_Serv._ This.

_2 Daugh._ Are you my sweet heart? It looks ill on't: how long is't, pretty soul, Since you and I first lov'd? Had we not reason To doat extreamly upon one another? How does my Love? this is not he: my chicken Could prate finely, sing a love-song.

_Jun._ Monster.

_2 Daugh._ Oh, now it courts.

_Jun._ Arm'd with more malice Then he that got thee has the divell.

_2 Daugh._ Good. Proceed, sweet chick.

_Jun._ I hate thee, that's my last.

_2 Daug._ Nay, and ye love me, forward: No? Come sister, Let's prick our answers on our arrows points, And make 'em laugh a little. Ye damn'd Leachers, Ye proud improvident fools, have we now caught ye? Are ye i'th' noose? Since ye are such loving creatures, We'll be your _Cupids_: Do ye see these arrows? We'll send them to your wanton livers, goats.

_1 Dau._ O how I'll trample on your hearts, ye villains, Ambitious salt-itch slaves: _Romes_ master sins, The mountain Rams topt your hot mothers.

_2. Daugh._ Dogs, To whose brave founders a salt whore gave suck; Theeves, honors hangmen, do ye grin? perdition Take me for ever, if in my [fell] anger, [_Enter_ Caratach. I do not out-do all example.

_Car._ Where, Where are these Ladies? ye keep noble quarter, Your Mother thinks ye dead or taken; upon which, She will not move her Battel. Sure these faces I have beheld and known, they are _Roman_ Leaders, How came they here?

_2. Daugh._ A trick Sir, that we us'd, A certain policy conducted 'em Unto our snare: we have done ye no small service; These us'd as we intend, we are for th' battel,

_Car._ As you intend? taken by treachery?

_1. Daugh._ Is't not allow'd?

_Car._ Those that should gild our Conquest, Make up a Battel worthy of our winning, Catch'd up by craft?

_2. Daugh._ By any means that's lawfu[l].

_Car._ A womans wisdom in our triumphs? out, Out ye sluts, ye follies; from our swords Filch our revenges basely? arm again, Gentlemen: Soldiers, I charge ye help 'em.

_2. Daugh._ By ---- Uncle, We will have vengeance for our rapes.

_Car._ By ---- You should have kept your legs close then: dispatch there.

_1. Daug._ I will not off thus.

_Car._ He that stirs to execute, Or she, though it be your selves, by him that got me, Shall quickly feel mine anger: one great day given us, Not to be snatch'd out of our hands but basely; And we must shame the gods from whence we have it, With setting snares for Soldiers? I'll run away first, Be hooted at, and children call me coward, Before I set up scales for Victories: Give 'em their swords.

_2 Daugh._ O gods.

_Car._ Bear off the women Unto their Mother.

_2 Dau._ One shot, gentle Uncle.

_Car._ One cut her fiddle-string: Bear 'em off I say.

_1 Dau._ The ---- take this fortune.

_Car._ Learn to spin, And curse your knotted hemp: go Gentlemen, [_Exeunt Daughters._ Safely go off, up to your Troops: be wiser, There thank me like tall Soldiers: I shall seek ye. [_Exit Caratach._

_Cur._ A noble worth.

_Dec._ Well _Junius_.

_Jun._ Pray ye no more.

_Cur._ He blushes, do not load him.

_Dec._ Where's your love now? [_Drums loud again._

_Jun._ Puffe, there it flies: Come, let's redeem our follies.

[_Exeunt Junius, Curius, Decius._

_Dru._ Awake, Sir; yet the _Roman_ Bodie's who[l]e, I see 'em clear again.

_Pen._ Whole? 'tis not possible: _Drusus_ they must be lost.

_Dru._ By ---- they are whole, Sir, And in brave doing; see, they wheel about To gain more ground.

_Pen._ But see there, _Drusus_, see, See that huge Battel moving from the mountains, Their gilt coats shine like Dragons scales, their march Like a rough tumbling storm; see them, and view 'em, And then see _Rome_ no more: say they fail; look, Look where the armed carts stand; a new Army: Look how they hang like falling rocks, as murdring Death rides in triumph _Drusus_: fell destruction Lashes his fiery horse, and round about him His many thousand ways to let out souls. Move me again when they charge, when the mountain Melts under their hot wheels, and from their Ax'trees Huge claps of thunder plough the ground before 'em, Till then I'll dream what _Rome_ was.

_Enter_ Swetonius, Petillius, Demetrius, Macer.

_Swet._ O bravely fought; honor till now nere show'd Her golden fa[c]e i'th' field. Like Lions, Gentlemen, Y'have held your heads up this day: Where's young _Junius_, _Curius_ and _Decius_?

_Petill._ Gone to heaven, I think, Sir.

_Sw._ Their worths go with 'em: breathe a while: How do ye?

_Pet._ Well; some few scurvy wounds, my heart's whole yet.

_Dem._ Would they would give us more ground.

_Swet._ Give? we'll have it.

_Petill._ Have it? and hold it too, despight the devill.

_Enter_ Junius, Decius, Curius.

_Jun._ Lead up to th' head, and line: sure the Qs. Battell Begins to charge like wild-fire: where's the General?

_Swet._ Oh, they are living yet. Come my brave soldiers, Come, let me pour _Romes_ blessing on ye; Live, Live, and lead Armies all: ye bleed hard.

_Jun._ Best: We shall appear the sterner to the foe.

_Dec._ More wounds, more honor.

_Petill._ Lose no time.

_Swet._ Away then, And stand this shock, ye have stood the world.

_Petill._ Wee'll grow to't. Is not this better than lowsie loving?

_Jun._ I am my self, _Petillius_.

_Petill._ 'Tis I love thee. [_Exeunt_ Romans.

_Enter_ Bonduca, Caratach, Daughters, Nennius.

_Car._ Charge 'em i'th' flanks: O ye have plaid the fool, The fool extreamly, the mad fool.

_Bon._ Why Cosin?

_Car._ The woman fool. Why did you give the word Unto the carts to charge down, and our people In gross before the Enemy? we pay for't, Our own swords cut our throats: why? ---- on't; Why do you offer to command? the divell, The divell, and his dam too, who bid you Meddle in mens affairs? [_Exeunt Queen, &c._

_Bond._ I'll help all.

_Car._ Home, Home and spin woman, spin, go spin, ye trifle. Open before there, or all's ruine. How, [_Showts within._ Now comes the Tempest; on our selves, by ---- [_Victoria within._ O woman, scurvie woman, beastly woman. [_Exeunt._

_Dru. Victoria, Victoria._

_Pen._ How's that, _Drusus_?

_Dru._ They win, they win, they win; oh look, look, look, Sir, For heavens sake look, the _Britains_ fly, the _Britains_ fly. _Victoria._

_Enter_ Swetonius, Soldiers, _and_ Captains.

_Swet._ Soft, soft, pursue it soft; excellent Soldiers, Close, my brave fellows, honorable _Romans_: Oh cool thy mettle _Junius_, they are ours, The world cannot redeem 'em: stern _Petillius_, Govern the conquest nobly: soft, good Soldiers. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Bonduca, Daughters, _and_ Britains.

_Bond._ Shame, whither flie ye, ye unlucky _Britains_? Will ye creep into your mothers wombs again? Back cowards. Hares, fearful Hares, Doves in your angers; leave me? Leave your Queen desolate? her hapless children.

_Enter_ Caratach _and_ Hengo.

To _Roman_ rape again and fury?

_Car._ Flye, ye buzzards, Ye have wings enough, ye fear: get thee gone, woman,

[_Loud shout within._

Shame tread upon thy heels; all's lost, all's lost, heark, Heark how the _Romans_ ring our knels. [_Ext. Bond., &c._

_Hen._ Good Uncle, Let me go too.

_Car._ No boy, th[y] fortune's mine, I must not leave thee; get behind me; shake not,

_Enter_ Petillius, Junius, Decius.

I'll breech ye, if ye do boy: Come, brave _Romans_, All is not lost yet.

_Jun._ Now I'll thank thee, _Caratach_. [_Fight. Drums._

_Car._ Thou art a Soldier: strike home, home, have at ye.

_Pen._ His blows fall like huge sledges on an anvil.

_Dec._ I am weary.

_Pet._ So am I.

_Car._ Send more swords to me.

_Jun._ Let's sit and rest. [_Sit down._

_Dru._ What think ye now?

_Pen._ O _Drusus_, I have lost mine honor, lost my name, Lost all that was my light: these are true _Romans_, And I a _Britain_ coward, a base Coward; Guide me where nothing is but desolation, That I may never more behold the face Of Man, or Mankind know me: O blind Fortune, Hast thou abus'd me thus?

_Dru._ Good Sir, be comforted; It was your wisdom rul'd ye; pray ye go home, Your day is yet to come, when this great fortune Shall be but foil unto it. [_Retreat._

_Pen._ Fool, fool, Coward. [_Exit_ Penyus _and_ Drusus.

_Enter_ Swetonius, Demetrius, _Soldiers, Drum and Colours_.

_Swet._ Draw in, draw in: well have you fought, and worthy _Romes_ noble recompence; look to your wounds, The ground is cold and hurtful: the proud Queen Has got a Fort, and there she and her Daughters Defie us once again. To morrow morning Wee'll seek her out, and make her know, our Fortunes Stop at no stubborn walls: Come, sons of honor, True virtues heirs; thus hatch'd with _Britain_ blood, Let's march to rest, and set in gules like Suns. Beat a soft march, and each one ease his neighbours. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Petillius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius _singing_.

Petill. _Smooth was his cheek,_

Dec. _And his chin it was sleek,_

Jun. _With whoop, he has done wooing._

Dem. Junius _was this Captains name,_ _A lad for a lasses viewing,_

Pet. _Full black his eye, and plump his thigh,_

Dec. _Made up for loves pursuing:_

Dem. _Smooth was his cheeck,_

Petill. _And his chin it was sleek,_

Jun. _With whoop, he has done wooing._

_Petill._ O my vex'd thief, art thou come home again? Are thy brains perfect?

_Jun._ Sound as bels.

_Petill._ Thy back-worm Quiet, and cast his sting, boy?

_Jun._ Dead, _Petillius_, Dead to all folly, and now my anger only.

_Pet._ Why, that's well said: hang _Cupid_ and his quiver, A drunken brawling Boy; thy honour'd saint Be thy ten shillings, _Junius_, there's the money, And there's the ware; square dealing: this but sweats thee Like a Mesh nag, and makes thee look pin buttock'd; The other runs thee whining up and down Like a pig in a storm, fills thy brains full of madness, And shews thee like a long _Lent_, thy brave body Turn'd to a tail of green-fish without butter.

_Dec._ When thou lov'st next, love a good cup of Wine, A Mistress for a King, she leaps to kiss thee, Her red and white's her own; she makes good blood, Takes none away; what she heats sleep can help, Without a groping Surgeon.

_Jun._ I am counsell'd, And henceforth, when I doat again,--

_Dem._ Take heed, Ye had almost paid for't.

_Petill._ Love no more great Ladies, Thou canst not step amiss then; there's no delight in 'em; All's in the whistling of their snacht up silks; They're only made for handsome view, not handling; Their bodies of so weak and wash a temper, A rough pac'd bed will shake 'em all to pieces; A tough hen pulls their teeth out, tyres their souls; _Plenæ rimarum sunt_, they are full of rynnet, And take the skin off where they are tasted; shun 'em, They live in cullisses like rotten cocks Stew'd to a tenderness, that holds no tack: Give me a thing I may crush.

_Jun._ Thou speak'st truly: The Wars shall be my Mistriss now.

_Petil._ Well chosen, For she's a bownsing lass, she'll kiss thee at night, boy, And break thy pate i'th' morning.

_Jun._ Yesterday I found those favors infinite.

_Dem._ Wench good enough, But that she talks too loud.

_Pet._ She talks to th' purpose, Which never Woman did yet: she'll hold grapling, And he that layes on best, is her best servant: All other loves are meer catching of dotrels, Stretching of legs out only, and trim laziness. Here comes the General. [_Enter Swet., Curius, & Macer._

_Swet._ I am glad [I] have found ye: Are those come in yet that pursu'd bold _Caratach_?

_Pet._ Not yet Sir, for I think they mean to lodge him; Take him I know they dare not, 'twill be dangerous.

_Swet._ Then haste _Petillius_, haste to _Penyus_, I fear the strong conceit of what disgrace Has pull'd upon himself, will be his ruine: I fear his soldiers fury too; haste presently, I would not lose him for all _Britain_. Give him, _Petillius_.

_Petill._ That that shall choak him.

_Swet._ All the noble counsell, His fault forgiven too, his place, his honor,

_Petill._ For me, I think, as handsome.

_Swet._ All the comfort. And tell the Soldier, 'twas on our command He drew not to the Battell.

_Petill._ I conceive Sir, And will do that shall cure all.

_Swet._ Bring him with ye Before the Queens Fort, and his Forces with him, There you shall find us following of our Conquest: Make haste.

_Petil._ The best I may. [_Exit._

_Swet._ And noble Gentlemen, Up to your Companies: we'll presently Upon the Queens pursuit: there's nothing done Till she be seiz'd; without her nothing won. [_Exeunt._

[_Short flourish._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Caratach _and_ Hengo.

_Car._ How does my Boy?

_Hen._ I would do well, my heart's well; I do not fear.

_Car._ My good Boy.

_Hen._ I know, Uncle, We must all dye; my little brother dy'd, I saw him dye, and he dy'd smiling: sure, There's no great pain in't Uncle. But pray tell me, Whither must we go when we are dead?

_Car._ Strange questions! Why, to the blessed'st place Boy: ever sweetness And happiness dwells there.

_Hen._ Will you come to me?

_Car._ Yes, my sweet boy.

_Hen._ Mine Aunt too, and my Cosins?

_Car._ All, my good child.

_Hen._ No _Romans_, Uncle?

_Car._ No Boy.

_Heng._ I should be loath to meet them there.

_Car._ No ill men, That live by violence, and strong oppression, Come thither: 'tis for those the gods love, good men.

_Heng._ Why, then I care not when I go; for surely I am perswaded they love me: I never Blasphem'd 'em, Uncle, nor transgrest my parents; I always said my Prayers.

_Car._ Thou shalt go then, Indeed thou shalt.

_Heng._ When they please.

_Car._ That's my good boy. Art thou not weary, _Hengo_?

_Heng._ Weary, Uncle? I have heard you say you have march'd all day in Armour.

_Car._ I have, boy.

_Heng._ Am not I your Kinsman?

_Car._ Yes.

_Heng._ And am not I as fully allyed unto you In those brave things, as blood?

_Car._ Thou art too tender.

_Heng._ To go upon my legs? they were made to bear me. I can play twenty mile a day, I see no reason But to preserve my Countrey and my self, I should march forty.

_Car._ What, wouldst thou be Living to wear a mans strength?

_Heng._ Why a _Caratach_, A _Roman_-hater, a scourge sent from Heaven [_Drum._ To whip these proud theeves from our Kingdom. Heark, Heark, Uncle, heark, I hear a Drum.

_Enter_ Judas _and his people to the door_.

_Jud._ Beat softly, Softly, I say; they are here: who dare charge?

_1. Sold._ He That dares be knockt o'th' head: I'll not come near him.

_Jud._ Retire again, and watch then. How he stares! H'as eyes would kill a dragon: mark the boy well; If we could take or kill him. A ---- on ye, How fierce ye look! see how he broods the boy; The devil dwels in's scabbard. Back, I say, Apace, apace, h'as found us. [_They retire._

_Car._ Do ye hunt us?

_Heng._ Uncle, good Uncle see, the thin starv'd Rascal, The eating _Roman_, see where he thrids the thickets: Kill him, dear Uncle, kill him; one good blow To knock his brains into his breech; strike's head off, That I may piss in's face.

_Car._ Do ye make us Foxes? Here, hold my charging staff, and keep the place boy. I'am at bay, and like a bull I'll bear me. Stand, stand, ye Rogues, ye Squirrels. [_Exit._

_Heng._ Now he pays 'em: O that I had a mans strength.

_Enter_ Judas, _&c._

_Jud._ Here's the boy; Mine own, I thank my Fortune.

_Heng._ Uncle, uncle; Famine is faln upon me, uncle.

_Jud._ Come, Sir, Yield willingly, your Uncle's out of hearing, I'll ticle your young tail else.

_Heng._ I defie thee, Thou mock-made man of mat: charge home, sirha: Hang thee, base slave, thou shak'st.

_Jud._ Upon my conscience The boy will beat me: how it looks, how bravely, How confident the worm is: a scabb'd boy To handle me thus? yield or I cut thy head off.

_Heng._ Thou dar'st not cut my finger: here't is, touch it.

_Jud._ The boy speaks sword and buckler, Prethee yield, boy: Come, here's an apple, yield.

_Heng._ By ---- he fears me. I'll give you sharper language: When, ye coward, When come ye up?

_Jud._ If he should beat me--

_Heng._ When, Sir? I long to kill thee; come, thou can'st not scape me. I have twenty ways to charge thee; twenty deaths Attend my bloody staff.

_Jud._ Sure 'tis the devil, A dwarf, devil in a doublet.

_Heng._ I have kill'd a Captain, sirha, a brave Captain, And when I have done, I have kickt him thus. Look here, See how I charge this staff.

_Jud._ Most certain This boy will cut my throat yet.

_Enter two Soldiers running._

_1. Sold._ Flee, flee, he kills us.

_2. Sould._ He comes, he comes.